


eat flowers, breathe light

by callunavulgari



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Accidentally High, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9521207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/callunavulgari
Summary: John gives Rodney a dreamy smile, swaying slightly towards him, and says, “You have really beautiful eyes, you know that?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [randommindtime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/randommindtime/gifts).



> Did a quick and dirty fill for [one of the prompts over at the Romancing Mcshep promptfest on LJ](http://romancingmcshep.livejournal.com/42308.html?thread=373828#t373828) while I was trying to figure out how to plot ahead with one of the bigger fics. It was fun and gave me a chance to play with a couple tropes that I've never actually written before, so hopefully it's at least closely resembling what you were looking for despite the floofiness.

“John?” Rodney asks, hesitantly approaching the naked figure sitting silently in the field of blue flowers. It… looks like the back of John’s head, but it’s hard to tell that sort of thing. His hair might be memorable, but historically, it’s a good idea not to trust strange naked men until you’ve definitively ID-ed them.

Rodney takes another few steps towards the figure, tapping his headset. “Teyla, Ronon - think I’ve got eyes on John. Back up may be necessary.”

“How necessary?” Ronon asks, quick and biting into the silence.

Rodney swallows. One more careful step. “Well, he’s naked. And he doesn’t seem to hear me. Stand by, I’m taking a closer look.”

“McKay-”

“McKay out,” he says quickly, flinching as maybe-John twitches. He clears his throat nervously. “John?”

Slowly, dreamily, the figure turns to look at him.

“Oh thank god,” Rodney breathes, the hand that’s been clenching tight to his P-90 going lax, shoulders slumping with relief as he rushes to close those last few steps.

Only the closer he gets, the more Rodney realizes that he was right. There’s definitely something wrong with John and it isn’t the sudden apparent desire to run around alien planets in the buff. Or, he supposes, in this case not so much run as sit quietly in a field of vaguely phallic flowers.

John’s eyes are hazy, his pupils not focusing as Rodney gingerly crouches in front of him, paying careful attention to his face rather than the wide expanse of naked skin before him.

“John?” he asks again. “Can you hear me?”

John gives Rodney a dreamy smile, swaying slightly towards him, and says, “You have really beautiful eyes, you know that?”

For a moment, Rodney just stares at him. Then he taps his headset.

“Immediate backup requested,” he tells the team in a strained voice.

John takes that as his cue to topple all the way over, his cheek landing with a thump against Rodney’s thigh. He peers up at Rodney, squinting a little, still smiling that serene, vacant smile. “Who were you again?”

Rodney stares at him and thinks that of all the ways he’d ever considered John Sheppard ending up in his lap, this is really not how he wanted it to go. “Fuck.”

.

After they’ve gotten Sheppard back to Atlantis and run a million and one tests on him, Carson concludes that the flowers were the culprits. The pollen that they found clinging to Rodney’s pants legs and boots (in small quantities) and on John’s… well, everything (in distressingly large quantities) shared certain similarities with several sedative-based drugs found on earth.

Rodney stares at him. “You’re saying that a field of flowers roofied him.”

“Really,” Carson tells him, easily waving aside Rodney’s concern. “The memory loss does have me a wee bit concerned, but the dose he received shouldn’t be large enough to incapacitate him in any lasting way. He’ll be woozy when it begins to wear off, but give him a day and he should be fine.”

“And if he isn’t?” Rodney asks gruffly, feigning ignorance when John slumps further into his side.

Carson looks at him disbelievingly. Says, slowly, “Then you bring him back here.”

Rodney bites his lip, still feeling mutinous. “And until then?”

“I could keep him here, of course,” he admits with a shrug. “But you know the colonel. He’s a very private sort of person. It may be best to keep him in his room until the drug runs its course.”

Rodney opens his mouth-

“Supervised, of course. Wouldn’t do to have him hurting himself.”

He closes it firmly, and glances back at Teyla and Ronon, who have been monitoring the conversation quietly.

“I would not mind taking first watch,” Teyla tells him, watching with a placid half-smile as John plays with the zipper of Rodney’s jacket, looking at once fascinated and disconcerted. Rodney gently smacks John’s hand away before he starts getting ideas to start trying some of Rodney’s other zippers, but unbothered, John just smiles at him and starts playing with Rodney’s fingers instead.

Rodney sighs. “It’s fine. I’ve got him.”

Teyla gives him her best ‘you dun good’ smile. Ronon grunts and shrugs at him.

Carson claps his hands together. “That’s settled then,” he says happily, and passes John a lollipop.

“He’s not actually a child, you know,” Rodney tells him mulishly as John, delighted, sticks the candy in his mouth. He sucks on it happily, lips pursed, cheeks hollowed out, then rolls it across his tongue to savor the flavor. Rodney glares accusingly at Carson.

“He’ll be right as rain in no time!” Carson insists again, and shoves them out of his infirmary.

.

It isn’t difficult to keep John entertained for the day. The pollen seems to be behaving more like GHB than any other drug, leaving John mostly relaxed with brief periods of mild exhilaration, so he coasts on brief ups and downs for most of the day, the relaxed easy smile never quite leaving his face.

Mostly he lazes around on his bed, happily listening to the music that Rodney’s queued up for him as Rodney taps away on his laptop next to him. It’s a bit difficult to concentrate with the heat of John pressed up against him, but Rodney powers through it, working when he can and listening to John tell him about how pretty he thinks Rodney is when he can’t.

“You just don’t understand,” he insists when Rodney tries to shrug off his flirtations.

Rodney looks at him, sprawled half across the bed, half across Rodney himself, a smug smile on his face. There’s no tension between his eyes, no faked nonchalance in his drawl - he’s quiet and happy and not… not quite childlike, but there’s something altogether innocent about him all the same. Maybe it’s the easy honesty or the way he smiles so openly.

John isn’t _simple_. He’s just endlessly pleased with everything - cheerfully oblivious to the pains that they’ve all suffered through the years - ignorant to the grief-choked clutch of his own past. If Rodney didn’t miss John so much, he’d almost wish that he could stay like this. Happy, unafraid, fingers tapping against Rodney’s kneecap to the beat of the music. But John, without all the pain and suffering, would have never been the man that he is today.

“Okay,” Rodney says with a shrug, because it’s not like John is going to remember this in the morning. “I don’t understand.”

John sighs heavily, fingers creeping higher up Rodney’s thigh. Firmly, Rodney guides it back down, patting it once so John gets the hint and leaves it there.

“You’ll see,” John says knowingly, settling his chin down on Rodney’s shoulder. All is quiet for a moment, so Rodney starts back up on his work.

It only takes John three minutes before he starts humming.

.

When Rodney wakes up in the morning, John is staring at him. His hair is more tousled than usual, sticking straight up in some spots and completely flattened in others, and there’s an indent from the pillow across his cheek. When he sees that Rodney is awake, he smiles, his face going soft and earnest and happy.

Rodney sighs, trying not to feel too disappointed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he breathes, heaving himself up. John gives him a startled, hurt look when Rodney crawls out of the bed. Rodney looks back at him, arching an eyebrow and beckoning impatiently, wishing for some coffee. Maybe they’ll stop by and get some on the way back. “Well, c’mon. The sooner Carson looks at you the sooner we can get you back to rediscovering Johnny Cash.”

John sits back up against the headboard, one leg drawing up to his chest. The sheets are draped artfully across his thighs, but it doesn’t make the spread of his legs any less enticing.

“Rodney,” he drawls, head tilted back so he can get a better look at Rodney. “It’s okay. I’m back.”

Rodney looks at him, unsure. “Say something mean. Or- or- something true.”

John gives him a flat look, unimpressed. Deadpans, “You have a flat butt.”

Rodney thrusts one shaking finger in his direction, outraged, the other groping behind him, just to check. “Take that back, you liar! Do not!”

John grins at him, his eyes glinting with good humor.

“Okay, fine, I lied. You don’t have a flat ass at all. But if you’d like,” he teases, legs falling open even further, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of muscled thigh from beneath the sheets. “You can still come and prove it.”

Rodney gapes at him. When another moment passes, John rolls his eyes. “For god’s sakes, McKay, it isn’t rocket science. I think you have pretty eyes. And nice arms. And I want to see what’ll happen when I get that big brain of yours to shut down for once.”

“My brain never shuts down,” he insists, still a bit shock-stupid. Maybe just Sheppard-stupid.

John’s eyes narrow. He bares his teeth in a smile that spells danger, and crooks a finger in Rodney’s direction.

Rodney sits back down on the bed and within seconds, he has a lapful of John.

“Prove it,” John whispers hotly against Rodney’s ear, and proceeds to shove his hand down Rodney’s pants.

.

Rodney doesn’t quite manage it, his brain switching offline sometime after John shimmies his boxers down his hips, grabs the bottle of lube hidden away on his nightstand, and crawls back into Rodney's lap.

It's okay. John tells him he can try again next time.

 


End file.
